A Change in Medea: A Brother's Kindness
by Araizune-Nara
Summary: What would've happened if one small change would have been made in the plot of Blade of Fire? A brother's kindness instead of silence and the damnation of his sister. A Cry of the Icemark Blade of Fire story. Medeacentric, romance later on, NO INCEST.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys! I just read the Icemark chronicles and love the first one while, the second left something to be desired. I wasn't that I didn't like Sharley, but I thought Medea deserved a better role. This story will focus heavily on Medea and what I believe would happen if one little part had changed.

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Cerdic looked sternly at Medea for her insult and came up with one of his own, "Well, no one in this family likes you anyway! In fact we all talk about your brooding and strange ways! You're a freak!"

Medea was definitely fazed by his statement, she knew they didn't like her, but for him to say it so harshly… Eodred scowled at his brother and hit him in the arm. Medea looked at Eodred strangely as did Cerdic.

Eodred had a bit of anger in his eyes, "Brother! How could you say such lies! This is our sister, our youngest one at that! We should not make her feel horrid and angered toward her family."

Medea darkened, for she knew the two would soon break out laughing. Well, laughing broke out, but only from one person. Cerdic began to laugh, but he lost his jolly nature as Eodred did not join in, but became angrier. Medea looked at her older brother in confusion.

"Cerdic, this is no joke. Medea is our blood, our family, and we should treat her like such," Eodred spoke sternly, and then he turned his gaze unto Medea, who stood in well hidden shock.

"Do not further yourself from us sister, we care greatly about you, and in the time of war, family is very important," Eodred spoke gently, a smile on his face.

Medea felt something snap in her, and she felt like crying, but refrained from it and just smiled, it was small, but was still a smile.

"Thank you Eodred," Medea whispered quietly.

Eodred looked a bit shocked when she said that, he had expected her to just leave. Cerdic frowned and grit his teeth before sighing and placing his battle-callused hand upon Medea's head, causing her to look up angrily at him.

"I'm sorry Medea, I, uhh, didn't mean it, it's just... it was insulting when you called me a fool…" Cerdic tried to apologize.

Medea felt strange then, she did not feel the usual urge to just growl and walk away, so she nodded. Cerdic looked upon her strangely, and reached out with his hand. He pinched her cheek and pulled the skin out until it hurt. Medea winced and growled before biting his finger. Cerdic yelled and pulled back his finger.

"What is your problem?!" He yelled nursing his finger.

Medea glared at him as Eodred looked on interested.

"Whatever you were doing to my cheek hurt, so to make you stop, I bit you. Serves you right," Medea said holding her cheek.

The two began to look murderous when Eodred began to laugh heartily. They looked at him and Cerdic began to laugh as well. Medea felt the unfamiliar feeling of her diaphragm moving strangely and her mouth working of its own accord as she joined in the laughing. Suddenly a knife was pressed to her neck and the trio stopped laughing.

"Who the hell are you, because you are not my sister," Cressida hissed.

Medea's eyes darkened as she felt a stab to her heart as yet again she was treated like shit, she launched her elbow hard into her older sister's ribs, and the knife cut the bottom of her chin lightly, blood coming down her neck. She stepped away from her elder and readied herself to fight her. Eodred and Cerdic stepped in-between Cressida and Medea, before yelling at Cressida as Oskan walked into the scene.

"What is going on out here?" Oskan asked in a surly mood, he was already on edge since he had heard of storm that had sunken some of the royal fleet, as Charlemagne and Maggie were in one of those ships.

Medea just covered her chin and began to walk away until Oskan grabbed her shoulder and turned her 'round. Oskan's eyes grew fierce as he saw the wound his youngest daughter held and scanned the three elder children to see Cressida holding the bloody knife. Cressida stared fiercely right back, ready to defend herself and her actions.

"Explain this. Now," Oskan commanded.

Cressida answered back immediately, "That imposter is not Medea father. Medea would never laugh in the presence of someone, let alone the twins."

Eodred was about to protest when Cerdic, of all people, replied angrily, "This is Medea! And for once when our younger sister opened up to us, you come and try to kill her! What a grand family! No wonder she stays away from us!"

Cerdic had walked to Medea during his rant and glared with great intensity at Cressida before engulfing his younger sister in a hug. All were shocked and looked intently to Medea for a reaction.

Medea stood stock still as her elder brother hugged her and she couldn't fight the coming sob from escaping her throat. A hug was something she had only truly received from Oskan, but to have it from her brother... Someone who had not wanted to have anything to do with her, hug her and defend her. She grabbed onto the front of her brother's robes and sobbed.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she held onto him, she lifted her head slightly to see him and muttered quietly through the tears, "Thank you."

Medea suddenly felt weak and her vision began to fade as she slumped forward from the blood loss due to large cut on her chin. Cerdic picked her up and enlisted the help of Eodred to go see the surgeon while Cressida cast her gaze downward and Oskan led her away to speak with his eldest daughter and his wife.

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Medea awoke groggily in her bed and groaned at the pain under her jaw. She ran a hand over it and winced, the pain was still there, but at least it was healing. She looked around to find she was in a foreign room.

Just one thought came to her, _'I wonder if they have food nearby?'_

She sat up, swinging her legs over the bed. She shivered lightly against the cold air; she was bare except for her undergarments. She saw a chair nearby that held her dress and walked over to it before getting dressed. She also found her simple shoes and walked out of the room, finding that she was on the east wing of the castle. The wing closest to the dining hall.

She walked to the dining hall to find her family dining together. Her first impulse was to walk away but her brothers turned in their seats and waved her over, two big smiles on their faces. She felt herself get infected by their smiles and soon she had a small one of her own. She walked up to the table and sat in the empty seat in-between her brothers and she began to think they planned this.

She looked around silently at the table and took a pheasant drumstick and did not notice her mother smiling gently at her. Cressida kept her gaze upon Medea, eating slowly and watching her every move. Medea began to eat, making almost no noise which surprised them all slightly, but then again she liked to keep to herself, and they guessed being quiet kept people from noticing her.

"So," Thirrin began rubbing her temples, "Their first wave is over a thousand large, and they have flying machines."

Medea cocked her head and bit once again into her pheasant drumstick before speaking once again, "Well, since they can fly, we can use the vampires to attach chain to a trio or more and then we can just focus on bringing down only one ship, and not them all."

Thirrin looked at her daughter, her gears starting to get going and pride welled up, but was squashed by guilt when she remembered that she had neglected this child in the raising of the others.

"How would we connect the chains to the air ships though?" Eodred questioned.

Medea bit her lip in thought as her family paid full attention to her. It was sort of unnerving, people staring at you, waiting for an answer to a question they asked.

She stopping biting her lip and spoke, "Well before we send the vampires with the chains we can some sort if spear on the ends of the chains. We can get the smiths to heat the tips up until they glow red and would sink through the metal into the ship."

Medea was proud of her thoughts, but then it struck her, she had just helped the family, when she wanted Bellorum to win. But when she thought of Bellorum winning, rage just welled up in her. Her eyes shone with violent fury as she made a silent vow to make up for the damage she had caused in the war against Bellorum, and help the three people she now cared for. Her two brothers and her father.

Her reverie was broken though by Thirrin's wild smile and comment, "Medea, tomorrow we shall begin your training, for here we have the next greatest strategist, greater even than that old blowhard, Scipio Bellorum!"

She raised her jug and the rest of them did also, Cressida though did it a bit reluctantly, and they cheered before taking a draught.

'_Strike that last thought, the four and a half people I care for.'_

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Well that was the first chapter and they will get longer as I go along, I hope you love the rest of the story and REVIEW!


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys I'm back and considerably happy at the responses I got from the first chapter, so here's the second one, longer as promised, enjoy!

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Medea sighed as she awoke in her room; it felt nice in her darkness. She couldn't remember though completely the events of yesterday. She sighed as she thought all the previous events were all a messed up dream.

_'They would never accept me anyway, they love the others too much there is no space for me,'_ Medea thought her midnight black hair shadowing her eyes, a small tear running down her cheek.

Then from the door, her mother entered. She wore a warm smile and had a suit of leather armor in her arms. Medea looked up confused.

"Queen Thirrin?" Medea asked, she had stopped calling Thirrin mother a long time ago.

Thirrin stiffened a bit at the formal greeting; it was as if she was struck to the heart as she was reminded yet again how she had not helped her daughter as she grew.

_'I'll make up for it,'_ Thirrin's will of fire would not allow this to go uncorrected; she would atone for those lost years.

"Come on, I told your lazy arse to be ready for training yesterday," Thirrin said in a light mood.

Medea looked a bit shocked, _'It wasn't…"_

She shook her head to get rid of the thought, now wasn't the time, she would help her family, her brothers, her mother, her father, her country to defeat the threat of the Bellorums. She got up and took the armor from her mother and placed it on her bed and looked at it strangely.

_'I have no idea how to put any of this on…'_ Medea thought, her eye twitching slightly.

Thirrin stifled a laugh as her daughter kept approaching and then backing away from the suit of armor, it was obvious that she had no clue how to put on the armor. Thirrin walked over and took Medea's shoulder.

"First of all, you can not put on this armor with a dress on," Thirrin said simply, Medea nodding.

Thirrin yelled for a servant standing outside the door to come in. He quickly obeyed and came in some standard clothing in his arms. A tunic and a pair of pants that looked durable and strong yet would give her the flexibility needed for the training she was about to undertake. She walked to a screen she had in the room to change behind and when finished walked out. She felt refreshed in a way, the smell of the new clothing was a nice thing and the feel of the simple fabric was great to her, not stiff and rigid like her dresses she wore.

The servant stared, his mouth somewhat ajar, Medea paid no mind and walked to her mother and waited for the next instructions. Thirrin nodded in approval and began to instruct her on how to put on the chest plate. Soon enough Medea was fully armored with the exception of a helmet and tied her hair back. Her mother took the honor of placing the helmet upon her head.

Thirrin walked to the door, "Come Medea, time to find your horse."

Medea nodded the affirmative and followed her mother, the leather armor beginning to get used to the movements of its owner. She walked with only a tad of difficulty to the stables where three horses were lined up, it was apparent in the eyes of these horses that they were powerful beasts.

In a row there was a black mare, at least 22 hands high, it looked fierce and still wild. Medea looked into the beast's eyes and shook her head; this horse did not trust her at all. The next was a gray and white-spotted stallion only 17 hands high, it wasn't as fierce looking as the first horse and Medea approached him. It immediately kicked the back wall of the stable to show he didn't want Medea any closer. Medea glared at the horse its arrogance annoying her. She waved it off and approached the last horse; a chestnut brown one, and invariably different from the other two. She was definitely smaller than the others, only about 14 hands; from a first glance it appeared to be a filly.

"Mother, why is there a filly in the stable? A young horse like this won't be able to fight," Medea said recalling something she had read when she was younger.

Thirrin smiled, "That is no filly Medea, Astrid is at least ten years old. She may be only 14 hands high, but she is a wonderful horse, I remember finding her when you were younger. She had almost got herself killed for scaring one of the werewolf guard captains, he tried to gut her, but she kicked him so hard that he was out for a fortnight."

Medea approached Astrid with a bit of curiosity, such a small horse with that much power… Astrid snorted as Medea approached but waited calmly. Medea placed her hand on Astrid's nose and stroked her lightly. Astrid whinnied in approval.

Medea suddenly felt Astrid's thoughts and feelings, the joy Astrid felt at being acknowledged, the hope she held that she would finally have a friend, the thrill she had at being able to train and fight alongside someone, and to be chosen when many other horses shunned her for her clear differences. Medea's eyes widened as all of this bombarded her mind at once. Medea though did not flinch away but kept stroking the mare's nose, feeling akin to her. She had noticed a clear similarity that if she were to choose Astrid, they would be almost impossible to top. The emotions Astrid felt as Medea acknowledged her were the same as when her own brothers finally acknowledged her just yesterday.

Medea nodded and turned to her mother.

"Astrid will be my companion," Medea confirmed, the same fire she held in her eyes yesterday when she had vowed to help her country was present once more.

Thirrin smiled at her daughter's choice and unlocked Astrid's stable door. Medea led the horse out and noticed she was almost as tall as her horse, but the way her horse walked, it proved that she was as good a horse as any, maybe even better. Astrid had powerful muscles in her legs and it showed as she walked, her health was apparent in the beauty of her brown pelt.

They got to an open field and Medea smiled slightly as Tharaman Thar strode over to meet them. Astrid whinnied a greeting and Tharaman smiled.

"I see the young strategist chose the underdog," He said in a joking tone, his jolly voice though still insulted Astrid.

The mare snorted indignantly and Tharaman laughed heartily.

"Ahh, young mare, do not hold it against me," Tharaman said apologetically.

Astrid snorted once again and readjusted her footing, trying to show the old snow leopard was forgiven. Medea smiled at how Astrid acted almost humanly and stroked her mane. Astrid whinnied and Thirrin smiled before coughing loudly to get everyone's attention.

"Tharaman, a servant brought several saddles correct?" Thirrin addressed the leader of the snow leopards.

Tharaman bobbed his head, "Yes, the offensive things are over here."

Tharaman had no problem in showing distaste in the idea of saddles. In fact all the snow leopards hated the things. Tharaman even warned all the soldiers who would ride leopards for superior tactics during battles that if they attempted to put a saddle on any leopard they would be gutted and used as an example for other soldiers on what not to do when fighting alongside snow leopards.

He led the group to a pile of saddles that had been laid out. Thirrin waved Medea and Astrid forward to examine each and every saddle. They walked along them, Medea looking at each saddle with a considerable amount of scrutiny. Many of them were much too large for Astrid and were thrown into a pile for the rejected saddles. Soon enough they were fitting the rest of the saddles on Astrid which they then received a no or yes. These came in the form of Astrid either pushing off the ground angrily to get the offending saddle off, or bobbing her head in a nod.

In all finality there were only two saddles left. One was a light brown, new and made from fine fabrics, a bit too fancy for Medea's tastes. The other was as black as night, though a bit rough at Medea's legs and stiff with blood from the last war. Medea though could tell her mother chose this saddle to be included for a reason. When she had seen it, she could easily discern the insignia of the Hypolitans, and the royal crest as well.

_'Grand Aunt Elemnestra…'_ Medea thought as she looked upon it, then she lifted it on to Astrid's back for the second time to fit it for herself. She couldn't feel the roughness and stiffness of the saddle; instead her mind was bombarded again, this time though, it was by memories and emotions.

The last look back at the city before getting on her horse to ride into battle with her archers; holding onto uncle Olememnon as she cried into his shoulder, making him swear that he would never speak a word about the moment, right after he had a close call, then she saw the very moment she saw her death, the cannonball heading toward her; her fear, grief, rage, and pride hitting her. Medea clutched her head, all of it causing her pain. She thought she heard her mother scream and then her world went black.

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_'Oww…'_ Medea groaned in her mind, clutching her head as she awoke.

Soon she was surrounded by her family and Tharaman all asking questions at once.

"What happened?!"

"Are you okay?"

"Sis can you speak?"

"Why are you like this?"

"Was it the saddle?"

"It was the horrid thing wasn't it?"

"SHUT UP I'M FINE!" Medea screamed trying to soothe her aching head and many people talking simultaneously wasn't doing any good to her.

Everyone went silent and Oskan pet her head lightly, "Medea what happened?"

Medea thought back to the visions she saw and shivered horribly, "I-I saw Aunt Elemnestra and all she saw, I felt what she felt at all moments she was on her horse."

Thirrin had looked down her face darkened considerably as she knew what Medea must have seen and she was just reassured by what she asked next.

"Why was Elemnestra and her archers alone on the field when the cannonball hit? Shouldn't there had been so much more troops?" Medea asked, a hint of steel in her voice, a steel Thirrin was very familiar with, since it was pretty much the anger she had raging through her blood right after the battle where one-hundred soldiers from every regiment were flogged for causing the death of Elemnestra and her archers.

Thirrin cleared her voice to try and avoid showing how much grief and anger the memory brought her and began to retell the events of Elemnestra's final battle. Medea glared fiercely at the bed sheets, her teeth grinding angrily at how their own country's troops could break ranks like that. When Thirrin finished speaking she put a hand on Medea's head.

"Do not be too angry Medea, the past is long gone and nothing can stop it. Now I'lljust bring up the new saddle and put Elemnestra's saddle aw-"

"No!" Medea called a tad forcefully, "I still wish to use my aunt's saddle."

Oskan spoke up, "Medea, you almost blacked out last time you came in contact with it, it's not safe."

Medea shook her head, "Father do not underestimate me, I can and will use that saddle, and whatever happened it is over, and if it happens again, I will control it."

Oskan bit his lower lip but could only bend to the will of his daughter when Thirrin agreed, pride shining through her eyes. Eodred and Cerdic both hugged their little sister and praised her. Cressida even allowed a small smile.

Medea smiled an equally small smile back at her sister, then suddenly she felt something, so subtle she almost didn't catch it, she pushed her brothers away, jumped out of bed and ran to the window. She could see all of Icemark and the battle fields outside of the walls of the city. And there were Scipio Bellorum's troops all lined up with his two sons leading. A messenger was being sent towards the city. Her family who had gathered together by the window after Medea's sudden jump out of bed tensed, another battle was about to begin.

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Hehe! Cliff hanger! well guys I had to cut it off there, but just you wait until the next chapter where we get some old-fashioned war drama! Yay!

Araizune-Nara.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys! I'm back: ) and well, this is where things start to get ugly. A battle is about to begin and lives are about to be lost. From which side? I dunno, but still, here it is:

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"What do you mean I am to be left behind?!" Medea screeched unpleasantly as her family all around her were getting ready for battle, even her father, the main seer with the gift was putting armor on to assist.

"You are not ready!" Thirrin and Cerdic growled at the same time, hoping to get the girl to back down, at least for a bit.

Medea began to shout protests and was yet again silenced.

**"You're not going!"** shouted the six people in the room at the simultaneously.

"Why not!?" Medea yelled back, she wanted to go down to the battle field and see her plan in action, but was apparently barred from doing so by everyone.

Oskan drew to his full height and looked down upon the girl, "You are still bitterly inexperienced and I would rather you not get killed."

Rebellious tears began to gather in her eyes before she wiped them furiously and clenched her fists. Oskan soon regretted his words, but Medea would have to grow used to harsh words, for when said by him they were only to keep his loved ones safe. Thirrin walked forward to her youngest daughter and smoothed her hair, hoping to get her attention. It worked and Medea looked up at her mother.

"What?!" she hissed.

Thirrin looked at her sternly, "Medea, the battlefield is not for children, especially those whom do not wish to heed the counsel of their elders."

Medea stiffened at her mother's words but kept her mouth shut.

"Medea I understand what you're feeling, but you must understand, we want to protect you, but when you are ready to fight, then we will allow you to go," Thirrin sighed, trying to explain her ways as she remembered her own fury when her father left for battle the final time without her, she also hoped this would be nothing like those circumstances.

Medea nodded reluctantly, her grey eyes betraying the defiance coursing through her blood. Thirrin suppressed a smile, for now, she could install her new plan for her daughter.

Thirrin twisted her face into a convincing scowl and spoke gravely, "Since you still think to defy me, it seems I must give you an escort. Ranol please enter!"

There was a stumbling outside and a small bedlam outside before a tall young man entered the room. He stumbled forward clumsily but stopped short of Thirrin and saved himself from falling forward. His cheeks were ablaze as he apologized and bowed again and again. Thirrin concealed her laughter, though the twins were not as successful, and waved him off.

"Ranol, don't you worry about that, I have fallen on my arse many a time because of that same loose stone, no need to be embarrassed," Thirrin said with a smile on her face.

Ranol smiled back, stood up straight, then and drew himself to his full height. He looked no older than 16, her brothers' age. But he was a lot taller than Medea, definitely taller than Astrid. The way he stood before straightening himself up reminded her of the naïve young children she would see running around out in the square, he looked rough around the edges, as if he was not yet trained. But the moment he straightened up and got serious, the young boy in him disappeared, and was replaced by a soldier, ready to fight hard for his country.

His hair fell over his right eye, hiding it from view, but his left eye was a bright cerulean blue. His skin was darker than most in the kingdom, this was an uncommon sight, and usually meant they spent a lot of time out in the sun, like a street rat, but Medea dismissed that, all people had their use, especially those who had hard childhoods. His leather armor showed off the muscles he had on his arms and legs and a scar ran down the side of his neck all the way to his collarbone than disappeared beneath his armor.

Medea's pale cheeks flushed red when Ranol returned her gaze as she noticed that she was staring. She quickly broke her eye contact with the taller boy and looked down. Thirrin and the twins looked on in amusement while Tharaman just chuckled and spoke with Ranol. Cressida showed no emotion and Oskan…

Well… Oskan showed his protective side as he puffed out his chest and met Ranol's eye.

"Listen boy, if something happens to my daughter, I'll gu-" Oskan began his threat only to be punched a small amount more than, a tad lightly, by his wife.

Oskan met her withering glare and gulped, Ranol though, who was more than a bit confused just bit his tongue before bowing to his queen and then bowing to Medea, who's blush just blazed brighter.

"Medea, this is Ranol, he has just completed his next to last piece of training to become a housecarl, his last assignment as a recruit is to make sure you don't go to battle until I deem you as ready," Thirrin said in a voice that did not allow for objections.

Medea grit her teeth and flushed in embarrassment. Ranol looked at her curiously and smiled softly.

_'She's cute… Wait… -gulp- D-did the queen say… Medea!? Th-The scary dark girl?'_ Ranol's face paled and opened his mouth to protest his last assignment but a messenger ran into the room with a scroll from the armies outside of the castle walls.

"Q-q-queen Thirrin!! S-scipio and his two sons sent this message!" The panting man announced, trying to catch his breath.

Thirrin nodded for him to read the scroll and the man continued.

"To the queen of the barbaric ice people, it is I once again, Scipio Bellorum. I have come with my two sons and armies to take your country. You have an hour to reply. If you choose not to comply, we will be back tomorrow to lay waste to your disgusting country," The messenger's fist were firmly clenched around the paper as he spoke with anger and disgust at the Bellorum's feeling of superiority.

You could just feel the hatred oozing out of everyone in that room, particularly the younger generation of people in the immediate area.

"Permission to join battle Queen Thirrin!" Ranol barked in a formal way.

"Permission denied," Thirrin said quickly.

Ranol flushed in embarrassment of being turned down so quickly. Thirrin though took no notice as she spoke to the messenger.

"I will ride myself to meet them send someone ahead to tell them that our cannons are ready and waiting for them to try and use their weapons, that will stop any altercation that might begin," Thirrin ordered as she took Oskan's wrist and dragged him away, the rest of the family following.

As Medea tried to get out of the room, Ranol stepped in the way of the door.

"Move!" Medea commanded.

Ranol flinched but stayed in place, not moving an inch, "I was given an order by your mother and I shan't move an inch until she is gone."

Medea growled and tried to push her way through, but Ranol caught her easily and held her wrists in a painful position to keep her from moving any closer.

"Oww! That hurts! Let go!" Medea shouted as she kicked at him wildly with her right leg.

And to Ranol's dismay, one actually connected… to his crotch. Ranol's eyes filled with mutinous tears as he fell to his knees and howled in pain. Medea looked at him and rolled her eyes as she tried to step over him. When she did attempt, one of his hands shot out and grabbed her forearm. He grabbed her down with him and pinned her down with his larger body. His shins held down her legs as he used his forearms to hold her arms in place.

"You are not leaving the palace. Your mother, who cares for you, chose me out of one hundred and eighty recruits to watch over you as you trained and became stronger. She put trust in me and in you. I don't know about you, but I refuse to betray my leader's trust," Ranol growled.

Medea's anger from the previous years resurfaced as he talked with such conviction about trust and such. It reminded her of how her mother had ignored her for fourteen years and there was still tension there, even if her mother was trying now.

"Screw you," She spat, "You trust and then you get hurt and have nothing to show for it. My mother, why is she worth following whilst she ignored her own daughter for FOURTEEN YEARS?"

Ranol twitched but didn't move he looked at down at her and saw she had her head turned to the side staring intently at the wall, "I shouldn't forgive her, I really shouldn't forgive any of them after they all cast me away like nothing… but my brothers…"

Ranol looked at her and saw something he hadn't seen a lot of in a prosperous kingdom like this. A truly broken person. He pet her head gently and she looked as if she was about to knock his block off. But instead, began to cry, a new record now for her, the second time she began to bawl her eyes in two days. Ranol twitched; he had never had to comfort someone past a gentle pat. He got off of her and she just kept on crying, it began to wrench at his heart, all that pain coming from her sobs...

He gathered her up in his arms and rocked her back and forth as he had seen mothers do to their young children when they cried. She began to calm slightly her sobs getting softer and softer until she was just trembling like a leaf in the wind. Ranol kept rocking her back and forth until even the faintest of trembling was gone. He tried to get up and expected her to stand up with him, but her head just fell heavily against his chest. She had fallen asleep.

Ranol groaned and positioned his arms under her to lift her up and as he stood he winced at some of the pain he still had in his lower areas. He growled and looked down to drop her, but that very sight stopped him. He looked at her and saw how vulnerable and scared she looked, just like the sobs that came from her before, it pulled at his heart, and he just couldn't do it. He laid her sleeping form on the bed she had occupied before but found as he tried to walk away, her hand was tightly holding onto his arm. He looked at her and cursed.

She wasn't even awake.

_'Well, I could wrench it away… but she would probably get angry at me waking her and she might –gulp- swing at my place again.'_ Ranol thought, a tad fearful for his junk.

He pulled a nearby chair over with his foot and sat down close to the bed using the mattress as a resting place for his head, he followed her into blissful slumber. Medea loosened her grip slightly and just curled up. It was well into the night when the blasts first started. Ranol and Medea both awoke and ran to the window.

They were standing dreadfully close, too close for comfort but Medea could care less. The battle field was lit up by the moon light and torches. Then she saw it, her plan being put into action. The vampires were taking off with the super-heated spears and like a knife through hot butter, it sank into the metal they chained together five through all the chaos and when one was shot down, Medea gasped at what happened.

The ships sank like stones onto the enemy, at least a whole regiment was wiped out by the falling alone, and the explosion took out many more. She could hear the cheers of her country from the castle of Frostmarris and she smiled proudly. Ranol looked out and silently cheered as well, but some fear welled up, as he thought of all his friends that signed up for the housecarls and were already in battle. As he was wrapped up in watching the fight, Medea began to move away she opened the door quietly and was about to walk out.

Ranol finally noticed and snuck up behind her grabbing her wrist.

"I don't think so," Ranol said, a bit of joking in his voice.

Medea almost had struck out at him, but the joking tone in his voice just made her bottom lip quiver outward on impulse. She looked into his eyes and saw surprise and a blush grace his cheeks. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and she reached out to touch him. He just turned away and coughed.

"What's wrong Ranol?" Medea asked, trying to sound concerned, but it came out as her usual emotionless drawl.

Ranol just shook his head, "I'm fine."

Medea nodded and an awkward silence settled between the two.

_'That pout… Who knew someone like her could look so… Cute?'_ Ranol thought as he blushed.

He looked back at where Medea should have been standing, but groaned as he saw her dashing off toward the stable.

This was going to be an annoying assignment.

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There's the third chapter, I hope you like Ranol so far. Next chapter may be out faster, but it depends. Remember to review, I like the criticism.

Araizune Nara


	4. Chapter 4

Hey guys I'm back! And 'tis here more spilling of Medea's new morals. Let's get a move on!

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"Gods damn it!" Ranol muttered under his breath as he ran after Medea, who had the audacity of knocking over priceless vases and other breakables to slow him down. 

So the poor guy was scrambling across the halls catching things and sprinting after a member of the royal family. People who were waking with the currently rising sun and saw the chase were shocked into silence, too amazed to even move. Medea, the coldest and scariest of all the people in Frostmarris, was giggling happily as she ran top speed in clothes that she had said she would forsake for being too 'common'. Then there was the tall boy in housecarl dress howling for her to stop.

Many of the shocked women that Medea passed by became flushed as he ran past excusing himself as he almost crashed into most of them.

Medea ran into the stable and vaulted herself over the median into Astrid's nook. Astrid whinnied and readjusted her footing as Medea did so. Medea stroked her nose and smiled.

"Hey there girl, how are you?" Medea said happily.

Astrid whinnied happily and Medea grabbed Elemnestra's saddle, hanging conveniently on the median, right when Ranol ran in, breathing hard, face red from exertion.

"D-damn it Medea!" Ranol gasped leaning against a support beam.

Medea just smirked at the tired boy, "Aww, poor Ranol couldn't keep up with me!"

Astrid let out something between a whinny and a snort that had Medea cracking up as Ranol blushed indignantly. His cheeks grew an even deeper shade of red when thoughts started coming out of nowhere.

_'She has a really beautiful laugh. **Oh my gods shut up!** No, you have to admit that is a really cute laugh, **ARGH! BE QUIET!**'_ Ranol groaned and held his head as the two sides fought on.

Medea frowned and left the saddle half strapped on to Astrid before she walked over gingerly placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Ranol? Are you well?" Medea asked a small hint of worry in her usually monotonous voice.

Ranol's head snapped upward and Medea wondered how he didn't suffer from whiplash.

_'Her voice… She was worried? **Yeah right, like the damn girl would be.** Shut up! She was worried, and… wow… her eyes are beautiful… **NO! Don't you dare!'** _Ranol couldn't look away no matter how his sides bickered.

Medea felt a bit unnerved when he stared into her eyes, she flushed and gulped when he didn't stop. She took a deep breath and shook him lightly.

"R-Ranol?" Medea hated how her voice quivered but Ranol seemed to snap out of his reverie.

He shook his head and his own face lit up red,"S-sorry…"

_'**Who would have thought a witch like her could actually care?** How could you be so harsh?! She got worried!** Shut the hell up!'**_ Ranol growled as he clutched his head again, his conflicting personalities and thoughts were fighting for dominance of his head.

Medea bit her lip as she tried to remember what Oskan had done when her head was hurting badly. She sat down in the hay at the bottom of the stable and dragged him down with her. Ranol looked at her as curiously as he could with his head pounding. She stroked his forehead lightly and Ranol almost flinched away from the sudden gentle treatment. She sighed and gently brought his head down to her lap, he complied, though it may have just been that he didn't want any extra pain in the form of a certain foot connecting once again with his certain weak spot.

She kept stroking his forehead lightly as she began to sing in a melodious tone that Medea had made sure no one knew about, oh well, Ranol could have sworn the song was being sung by an angel.

_"Adquiesco autem, _

_Amitto tuus dolor. _

_Ipse commendo." _

He felt his shoulders slump in relaxation and the fighting in his head subside as he felt himself getting lost in her voice. Ranol opened the eyes that were closed as she sang and saw she was staring right back into his eyes. She flushed lightly and hastily looked away crossing her arms over her chest.

"A-are you feeling better?" She asked quietly.

"Y-yeah… Th-thank you…" Ranol added the latter part after he had thought about it.

"Well, your welcome," Medea said softly, her blush now under control.

"Nmm," Ranol said as an affirmative as he sat up.

A pregnant silence was held between the two before Ranol's will broke.

"How does someone like you sing so well?" Ranol asked, his voice sounding genuinely confused, not thinking as the words came out of his mouth.

Though he figured something was wrong when the temperature in the stable seemed to drop ten degrees. He looked over at the young woman next to him and gulped. She had her fist clenched and was grinding her teeth as she struggled not to lose it.

"People like me right? Yeah I forgot I'm supposed to be the bitch that's not good at anything that would be appealing," Medea spat as Astrid seemed to eye Ranol angrily.

Ranol blinked and scowled, "What the hell?! I just asked a damn question and you got all hissy with me!"

Medea's eyes twitched and she scoffed, "Whatever."

She got up from her sitting position and finished putting Elemnestra's saddle on Astrid's back. Ranol got up and went over when Astrid whinnied angrily and kicked the wall behind her, effectively causing Ranol to back up. Astrid snorted satisfactorily and Medea climbed on as she opened the stable door. Ranol walked up again and spread his arms, blocking the exit.

"You. Are. Not. Leaving." Ranol said tersely, determination shining in his eyes.

Astrid looked amused as she reared back and threatened to kick Ranol. Ranol ducked out of the way, Medea and Astrid were gone quickly, the Icelandic horse setting off at a flying pace. Medea was a bit surprised at how swiftly Astrid ran but quickly got used to it. Ranol groaned and saddled the nearest horse and rode off in a gallop, the black coated horse only having four gaits.

Medea raced toward the wood muttering a prayer to the Holly King as she got closer and closer and right when she and Astrid were about to crash into a wall of trees, the forest opened up and the two entered.

Ranol's eyes widened as the wood began to close slowly again, he situated himself atop the horse he was riding and as they approached he jumped off, and through the medium size hole that was left of the opening, catching a glimpse of the horse veering off and cantering away. He hit the ground hard and winced when he felt something scrape against his arm and his life's essence flow out from the wound on it. He struggled onto his feet, still feeling disoriented. He stumbled forward and leaned against a tree that was nearby, and removed his hand from his stinging wound.

"Damn it," he muttered as he was met with the sight of his hand covered with his warm blood.

Suddenly small, soft hands took his hand and led him away quickly. Through his hazed eyes and through all the dense foliage he could barely make out the figure, they were definitely shorter than him. He tried to pull away, but he suddenly felt horribly weak.

He caught sight of his own arm, _'Since when am I pale?'_

Then everything went dark.

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_'GODS DAMN IT!'_ Medea thought as she felt his weight weigh her down when he collapsed to the ground.

She turned immediately and knelt next him, studying his wound. She whistled in a high pitch and Astrid walked over. Medea untied a container of water from the saddle and knelt once again. She opened it and poured some into the wound to cleanse it and she placed it gently across his chest as she tore the whole abdomen area of her shirt off and tied it tightly against the wound to bind and slow down the bleeding. She hoisted him onto Astrid's reluctant back. She climbed on after him and squeaked when she almost fell off as Astrid protested slightly.

"I'm sorry girl, but I just can't leave him here and this is the fastest way home," Medea spoke softly and kindly to Astrid, readjusting Ranol so that she could ride without that much discomfort.

Astrid snorted, but other than that she did not protest as she began to walk again. Medea had one arm awkwardly around Ranol's midriff and another holding onto Astrid's reigns. She came to the forest wall and smiled when they opened again. She kicked Astrid's side lightly and they began to trot back. They got into the stable and Medea got down first and then pulled Ranol down gently.

"How come you're the guard, but I'm the one that always protects your arse?" Medea muttered exasperated as she tried to drag him to the medic's office.

Ranol's eyes fluttered open as he groaned and muttered, "It's your fault."

Medea let go of the arm she put across her shoulders to help him stand and put the arm she had around her back to her side and smirked at how quickly he seemed to stumble and grab onto her for support. He blushed and looked away, hanging his head in defeat as Medea helped him to the private clinic and groaned when she remembered that the surgeon would not be there, but out in the field clinic patching up soldiers. Ranol chuckled weakly and Medea hustled into the clinic helping him into one of the cots for patients to rest on.

"Stay there and do not fall asleep on me," Medea ordered.

She turned around and looked through the doctor's supplies for a hook, some thread, a roll of bandages, antiseptic she remembered Oskan explaining to her one day, hoping to interest her in healing, as well as some fabric, and a cream that Oskan had also showed her once.

_'Blech,'_ She thought as she opened the container up to ensure it was the cream that would stop the bleeding, and the stench verified it for her.

She frowned thoughtfully though when she found no medicine she recognized could that could deaden the pain.

She took what she found back with her and Ranol eyed her carefully, "Where's the mandrake solution that we stole from the Polypontus Armies?"

Medea flushed embarrassedly, and muttered her apologies, "It appears the surgeon took it with him down to the field clinic."

Ranol looked at her threading the hook and blanched, "H-hey y-you're st-still going to…"

"If I don't you could die, so yes I am," she told him, her grey eyes boring into his, daring him to refuse her aid.

Ranol opened his mouth to protest, but something he noticed stopped him cold. He stared at her and Medea just rolled her eyes, dipping the threaded hook into the antiseptic and giving him a nearby block of wood to bite down on. This knocked him back to reality.

"What in the name of Valhalla happened to your tunic!?" Ranol asked, eyes wide, and cheeks flushed crimson red as he could clearly see her slender midriff, the shirt torn just centimeters under her breasts.

She paid no heed and unwrapped the makeshift bandage around his wound and cast it to the side. He looked at it and he recognized it vaguely as the fabric of her once whole tunic. She was smirking slightly at him as she dabbed the antiseptic into the wound using some soft fabric that she found looking for the mandrake solution. Ranol hissed in protest as he winced and growled at the pain. She blew lightly into the wound to spread it as she dabbed the fabric into the foul smelling cream and rubbed it onto the wound. Ranol let out a whimper and Medea bit back a giggle.

She dipped the hook in the antiseptic and looked Ranol in the eyes, "Bite the block because this is going to hurt a lot."

Ranol sighed and bit the block as hard as he could. Medea brought the hook back up and began to stitch up his arm, working carefully, trying to recall each and everything her father had once showed her in hopes of interesting her in things and to come out of her shell. Ranol growled, whimpered, and cried out through the block as hot tears of pain ran in a small stream down his cheeks. Medea finally finished stitching the poor boy up and rubbed the antiseptic onto the stitched up wound once more before wrapping clean bandages around it and securing it with a pin.

"There, you're patched up now," Medea said leaning back in the chair she was sitting in.

Ranol spat out the block and hissed out a curse as he nursed his newly bandaged arm. Medea just sighed and stared up at the ceiling, silently thanking her father when the door opened. She whipped around and gasped before running up to the door.

Cerdic was standing there, being supported by Eodred. He was drenched in blood, a huge gash on his fore head and one going from his right shoulder to his left hip. She helped support him, as they walked in and laid him on the bed, Oskan and another surgeon running in after them. They were all speaking medical jargon as Eodred looked on in pain and horror, his brother lying there dying of his wounds. Tears began to fall in a stream down his cheeks when he felt two thin arms hug him tightly. He looked down at the face of the person and struggled to put a smile on his face. Medea hugged her brother tighter, hating that hollow look on her brother's face as he cried.

"Cerdic will be fine, dad is taking care of him, and the goddess is on his side, so Eodred, please, don't look so hollow…" Medea said, trying to sooth her elder brother.

Eodred looked at his Younger sister, that hollow feeling leaving as he hugged her back fiercely, placing his head on her shoulder as he cried. He shook like a leaf as from his lips he spilled thanks. Thanks to his father, to the gods and goddesses, to his mother, to Cressida, to Cerdic, and most of the time he came back to thanking Medea. Ranol looked on in surprise at one of his heroes cry and tremble, a great fighter break and cry like that. But, he was even more surprised at the 'at peace' look Medea wore as she cradle the young man that was almost a foot taller than her.

She looked so happy, but, still shocked and sad, though she hid it well.

_'She looks beautiful…** Oh will you hush?! She is a bit-** Bitches do not seem as gentle and they do not comfort people. **Why you-**'_Ranol laid back, as he felt his heart speed up.

He suppressed a groan as the two sides of his conscious began to fight. He already knew that one side was completely right, that didn't make him any happy about it though.

_'This assignment is going to be a bigger annoyance than I thought.'_

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Well guys, that was chapter 4. I hoped you liked it. Also... I am looking for someone to do a drawing of Ranol for me, person who does will get a character in a chapter of the story!


	5. Chapter 5

Hey dudes! I'm back! XP, sorry for the horrible delay, but I was attacked by a horrible disease… Writer's block. It was almost heart-stopping when I got a PM from a reader, telling me not to give up the story. But that burst me out of my slump.

So one thing before we gone, I must express my thanks. THANK YOU BETTYRIZZO!!

Now let's get this chapter going!

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Everything was quiet in the palace as Medea and Ranol walked away together from Eodred's room. After her brother had finally collapsed from fatigue the two helped him out of the room where Cerdic was sleeping peacefully, saved just in time. The city was loud with joy outside, having pushed back the Polypontus, for you could just hear the border of the celebrations, but other than that the palace was silent at the could- have-been loss of one of the royal sons.

They came to Medea's room and Ranol rubbed the back of his neck with his good arm in a nervous fashion. Medea's eyebrow quirked up in interest and she stood there, waiting for him to speak.

He finally coughed, sighed, and hung his head in defeat, "Thank you Princess Medea for stitching up my arm."

Medea's eye twitched at his formal speech. It sounded so robotic… So fake.

"Do you really mean that?" She asked in a flat tone, looking terribly bemused.

"Of course I do!" Ranol said, angered that she would think he would not thank her for helping him.

Medea's lips quirked upward in a small, lopsided smile, "Then say it like you mean it, and if you call me princess again, your friend will get reacquainted with my foot."

Ranol paled and Medea began to laugh, "I'm just joking…" Her face turned very serious, "But please do not be formal with me, it sounds… weird."

Ranol nodded slowly, blushing at the adorable laughing that had graced his ears only seconds before, "Of course Medea."

Medea nodded satisfied and opened the door to her room, "Goodnight Ranol."

"Y-Yes… Goodnight…" Ranol said quietly as Medea closed her door.

Ranol sighed as he drifted like a phantom through the halls of the palace and out into Frostmarris. He ducked into a small alcove, and through a hole in the wall where he came to a small room lit by an old and banged up oil lantern that hung from some twisted metal. There was a small straw bed and a tattered old blanket, along with some folded clothes in the corner; these were the things that made up Ranol's small sleeping space.

He began to undress, shivering as the cold leaked into his skin, and frowning at the big hole in the sleeve of his leather armor where he had had to been stitched up. He sighed and continued to undress. His chest was now bare, and the scar from before continued. From the right side of the jaw down the side of the neck and across to about the middle of his torso. A reminder of how weak he had once been, and at the same time, the scar was the very thing that pushed him to work forever harder.

"Never again," He muttered as he ran his hand along the length of the scar.

He slipped into a soft fabric shirt and into some old pants before covering the oil lamp slightly, allowing air in to keep the fire going, but keeping light from coming out. He lied down onto his bed and curled up into a ball for warmth, held on close to the blanket, his only source of warmth, and sighed. He muttered his goals and rules of life to himself as he drifted off.

-Never let anyone see your weaknesses.

-Never trust more than you are required to.

-Get enough money to buy a decent home.

-Have children, and raise them right.

_'Marry Medea…'_ A small voice in his mind announced.

Ranol jolted up so quickly his blanket flew off and the cold set in. He blushed and grabbed at the blanket, covering his figure once again. He blinked and shook his head furiously, as if trying to get even that thought out of his head.

"That will never come close to happening, and I am not of royal blood," Ranol said quietly to himself, attempting to squash that thought.

_'But I wouldn't mind it happening…'_ That small voice muttered.

"Aargh! Shut up!" He yelled covering his ears.

He turned on his side and curled up, but attempting to fall asleep tonight, would be futile, for his subconscious, would not stop talking and trying to convince him it was possible. But he knew better. He knew better than to hope for things that would never become reality. Because reality would just smack him back down.

He felt wetness on his cheeks and growled as he furiously wiped his bitter tears away. He cursed at himself for beginning to cry at some stupid realization. She was the sadistic princess of Frostmarris for Pete's sake!

_'But she doesn't act anything like it… She even hated when I called her princess.'_

"That damn girl is confusing," He muttered as he laid back down, finally feeling tired and drifting to sleep…

…Just as the noises of celebration and mourning awoke him and he groaned. He stuck his head out of his 'room' and saw sunshine pouring through. He sighed and stood up, cold air nipping at his warm skin, the freezing bandit stealing his precious treasure of body warmth, and at the same time kept him awake after his sleepless night. He quivered like a leaf in the breeze as he stripped down to his bare form, changed his under garments, and put on the worn, used, leather armor, he had saved from the broken, burnt down, fragments of his former house. He frowned once again at the considerably large tear in the fabric and sighed in a depressed manner before slipping on his housecarl tunic and headed off.

He checked the money purse at his belt for some silver and muttered some choice curses as he found one small silver coin. Only good for one piece of bread, if even that. He stuck the coin back in his pocket and silenced his hungry stomach. He hung his head and kept walking, keeping his arms close to his body to save warmth. As he reached the castle gates and straightened up.

The housecarls on duty hailed him, "Greetings stranger! What would your business be?"

Ranol looked up at the two housecarls before smiling slightly, "I'm here to see Princess Medea; I am her escort for the time being."

The two looked at him, then at each other, and then right back to him before shaking their heads.

"So you're the poor sap Queen Thirrin forced into having to follow the sadistic little demon bitch, huh?" One of them said, guffawing as he came to the end of his sentence.

Ranol's face grew red with anger, "How dare you? You stupid slobs would know nothing of her, so I would respect if you farces of housecarls shut the hell up and let me in!"

The two, once laughing, stopped immediately, suddenly looking hostile. They walked up to him, and though he towered over most, these two definitely had the upper hand in this, being at least four inches taller than Ranol, who was already almost six feet tall. They cracked their knuckles and smirked down at him. One pulled his arm back as the other snuck around and grabbed Ranol's arms to hold him there. Just as his beating was about to begin a cold voice sliced through the air like a hot knife through butter.

"Let him go or I will kill you both in the most painful way possible. This I promise," growled the cold voice, the two housecarls looked as if it was the death god himself coming for them as they let him go.

He rubbed his arms and looked behind the one that was about to beat him into a pulp and smiled slightly. Medea stood about twenty or so paces away, in regular riding clothes, except for a cape draped over her that served as an insulator for warmth. Her furious face held a brutish glare focused on the two who had almost harmed him. He walked over and smiled bigger.

"Aww, Ickle Medea is giving her itty death glare," Ranol said, a joking smile gracing his face.

Medea's scowl grew fiercer and she turned toward him. Then she looked on his face and her words died on her cruel words died on her tongue. Ranol looked worriedly at her as her eyes widened and the scowl returned, but not as strong as before.

"You damn fool! Let's get inside; you'll catch your death with only those tattered old things on!" Medea ordered as she grabbed onto his arm and began to drag him inside.

Ranol blinked, and looked at the youngest daughter of his queen, smiling as she led him away. Her hands were like a welcomed fire upon his skin, he began to feel warmer. Though the warmth was probably his heart, which just happened to be beating faster than any training exercise had ever made it beat, just at Medea's touch. As they entered the palace Ranol sighed at the rush of warmth. Medea turned around and lifted up the arm that the leather armor had a tear in it and shook her head.

"What?" Ranol asked; particularly defensive of his only piece of armor.

Medea just kept looking at him and the moved forward and wrapped her arms around his torso. Ranol blinked and it took a few seconds before he completely registered what had just happened. He was about to return the embrace when Medea stepped back and held out her arms on one arm her tunic sleeve was now rolled up and she nodded before she grabbed his arm again and led him to a door that read, Royal Tailor.

"I can't afford him!" Ranol said as soon as he saw the door.

Medea just rolled her eyes and continued on, pushing his reluctant form through the door. A young man sat reading a book, chuckling softly at certain parts, looking extremely comfortable in a big chair that rocked back and forth. He looked up and smiled at Medea as she walked in and a small blush spread across her pale cheeks.

"My beautiful little princess, it has been quite a while since you came to me for a new dress," The man said lightly, his grin spread across his face like a wolf looking at his prey.

Ranol's eyes narrowed as he stepped in front of her, "Good morning citizen, I am Princess Medea's escort during these troubling times of war; Vindex, Ranol."

The tailor's grin quickly faded into a sneer as he looked sourly at him, going on in an uninterested tone, "Is there a reason for your curt tone Mr. Vindex?"

Ranol was about to yell a few choice words at the sneering man when Medea lightly touched his shoulder. He looked back at her and Medea smiled uneasily.

"Mr. Vestitus is an acquaintance of mine, please do not worry," She said softly.

Ranol nodded, a small frown on his face, but in his mind he was jealous, jealous of the tailor that seemed so familiar with Medea. He hovered close as she began to speak with Vestitus.

"My escort is in need of new armor, I would like it very much if you helped me Vestitus," Medea said, that same unsure smile on her face.

Vestitus looked disgruntled, "I do not have a string to measure him."

Medea nodded, "He's about a head above me Vestitus, and his torso measures about 7 hands. His arms look to be about 6 hands and his hips are at least a hand slimmer than his torso. His legs are 9 hands. We'll be back to check if I got the measurements right."

Vestitus had written all of this down, though he had done so reluctantly… Then shooed them out of his sanctuary, grumbling to himself as he turned to his work.

"How do you know him?" Ranol asked, glaring at the door.

His action didn't go unnoticed and Medea hit him lightly on the arm, "He made all my clothes, well my dresses at least. Now I am going to start wearing just tunics and pants, they are very comfortable, so I won't be seeing much of him; I don't want to lose a good ally in this castle. He is also very kind… To certain people."

Ranol nodded stiffly, "Of course, I forgot how big some heads can get if they happened to be employed by the queen."

Medea sighed and they stood in a semi-awkward silence when it was ruthlessly broken by a loud growling of the stomach kind. Ranol blushed indignantly as Medea looked up at him, amusement sparkling in her grey pools.

"My, my, Ranol. Haven't you learned proper royal etiquette? Never let your belly rumble," Medea stated slyly as Ranol began to apologize profusely.

Medea kept a straight face for a mere ten seconds before a smile broke out upon her lips.

She grabbed his arm lightly and began to drag him down the hall, "Come now, and let's get you something to eat."

Ranol blinked as he was pulled along, servants going through the halls, looked on with different reactions. Some chuckled and shook their heads, others sighed dreamily at the situation, and those reactions made Ranol's face resemble a tomato. But others looked on as if they pitied him, or were disgusted at how close he was to a royal; it was not very good etiquette unless you were a consort. To those reactions his face grew fierce and he glared at everyone he caught, until he was finally pulled into kitchen.

A delicious smell wafted in the air, the very scent causing his stomach to growl out loudly. Medea let out a giggle and looked around the kitchen, the head cook smiled at her and pointed over to a table that had a large platter, filled up with food. Medea smiled shyly at the cook and took hold of the platter.

"Help me out Ranol," She said as she walked over to him.

Ranol nodded and helped her carry the platter into the dining hall. There were very few people there, just a few servants, cleaning up some small messes. They set the platter down at a corner table and sat down themselves.

With little ceremony aside from muttering thanks to the gods the two began to eat. Ranol was tempted to just pig out, but remembered the manners he was taught so long ago and ate slowly instead, relishing the splendid taste in his mouth. It was only when he caught sight of Medea's amused eyes did he notice he was making appreciative sounds as he ate.

His cheeks were once again aflame as he looked away, still chewing.

"That was cute," Medea said, showing him a lop-sided smile.

Ranol's face turned a deeper shade of red as he muttered thank you and finally finished his food. His shoulders slumped and he sighed happily that he had gotten some great food into him. When Medea finished up her food, Ranol stood up and took Medea's hand in his and began to pull her away, he thought it over for a second and began to weave a tale.

It was of a housecarl, one who was so strictly loyal to the former king, that he almost never had time for his wife or young son. He had gone to fight in the king's final battle, voluntarily, even when his wife begged for him to stay. He had died that day, and left the wife and child alone. The child grew and tried so very hard to take care of his mother. But she was old, tired, and numb. She did not last long. And then there was one, at first he lived in the house his parents left behind, but a mysterious fire swallowed the humble home, leaving him to live in the streets of Frostmarris. He found his father's armor in the rubble and tried out for the housecarls, nothing else is apparently known of him.

Medea listened to the story intently, and at the same time noticed something as he kept reciting the story. He stumbled at some parts, but yet remembered vivid details that no one could get except, of course, if you were a witness to it. But what stood out the most, was the pure emotion in his voice. The bitterness and resent he had as he spoke of the housecarl that left behind his family. The pure helplessness overshadowing his voice as he spoke of the mother, of the child, and of how she died. The attempted dead-panned voice he had as he spoke at the end.

She saw the slight pain in his eyes as they turned the corner to the tailor's room. She squeezed the hand she held and he flinched slightly. His face went hot again with a furious blush as he looked back.

"Wh-what do you need Medea?" He tried to force his words out of his throat correctly and succeeded.

"You have a very sad story Ranol. I hope you become happier," She said quietly as she opened the Vestitus's door and dragged the stunned boy in.

Vestitus glared at him as they both walked into the center of the room and threw a half finished suit of leather armor at him.

"Go behind the screen and see if it fits," he drawled in an uncaring manner.

Ranol just growled and did as he was told. He stripped down to his skivvies and put on the half finished armor. It did not yet have all the necessary padding and was not yet oiled and toughened, but it still felt incredible. It was comfortable and flexible, the perfect beginning to a suit of armor. It was a little short at the arms, but his gauntlets would make up for it.

He stripped down again and returned from behind the screen, "It is very good work tailor, everything is in proportion."

Vestitus just nodded curtly and shooed them away yet again, announcing the armor would be ready by tomorrow. Ranol glared at the door once again and reached for his throwing dagger when Medea hugged him quickly. Ranol was so surprised he lost his balance and the two fell to the floor. Medea crashed on top of him and to make sure she didn't hurt herself he wrapped an arm around her waist, but then he felt his head jar and everything went dark. And so they were on the floor, her head lying on his chest, her cheeks aflame with embarrassment, Ranol's arm wrapped casually around her waist as if he was a shameless consort. She sat up quickly and his arm slid off of her as he lay there, unconscious from the blow he received from the fall.

"Oh my gods! Ranol!" Medea yelled as she hurriedly got off of him and lifted his head.

She sighed and remembered their conversation only yesterday.

_"How come you're the guard, but I'm the one that always protects your arse?"_

**_"It's your fault."_**

Medea felt guilt pool in her stomach and she picked him up and began to drag him away.

_'I hate that you are absolutely right… Damn you Ranol.'_ Medea muttered in her mind, making an unhappy face as they walked into the palace infirmary for the second time in twenty-four hours.

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Hope you liked it, please remember to review, I love your feedback.


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys! It's me Araizune Nara with the new chapter, It's pretty much a Medea-centric chapter in where the last one was very Ranol-centric.

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_'How did I get like this? Why do I care so much for a stupid street rat? He's not stupid, don't think that. Besides, he's not cruel or anything like all the others… just… dutiful. Believe that if you want you stupid fool.'_ Medea sighed as she bickered with herself, but to tell the honest truth, she did not care much for the side who was putting down Ranol.

She looked upon his sleeping form and began to muse about the events of the former night and the morning following it. Especially spending the night with someone who rather did not seem to like her.

--

Medea did not know much about Ranol. That was an obvious thing though, only having met him the day before. But it was something so strange; he acted so differently from the other 'outsiders' she had met. He was strangely unlike those who had scorned her, decided she was not worthy of acknowledgement, or feared her, for she was not something well understood.

But, Medea knew something about him for sure, something that she didn't even think he had noticed. When she had talked to Ranol on the way to her brother's room, his voice was enticing, so much emotion, so much beauty to it… But it was almost sickening at the same time. When he spoke freely, that beautiful voice of his made the sick, dark, and twisted part of her mind want make sure that voice was forever silenced.

That part of her mind murmured poison whispers, trying to incite despicable jealousy. Why should he have such a passionate and beautiful voice while people only trembled in fear of hers? Why was he so damn special? Those terrible, self-destroying feelings which she used to accept so easily now shook her to the core. It frightened her beyond belief that she could feel that way about someone who had wished her no open ill.

When they had spoken before, dragging Eodred's unconscious arse to his room, he had spoken freely, his voice not restrained by the regular sense of eminent duty. Perhaps it was how tired he was after a long day, maybe that was why he had spoken so candidly about his dreams.

"I hope that one day I will be a respectable man, hopefully marry someone I care for deeply. Have a kid or two, and then raise them to be humble, and generous. Teach them to show compassion."

_'What a stupid goal.'_ That sick part of her mind had almost made her say. But it was far from stupid. That goal was beautiful, no matter what anyone said. The goal was so pure, his voice so full of determination. Again it made her sick… But not in an angry manner. It made her want to shed tears and to yell at him to get real. This world was not a place where it would be safe for children like that.

For in this earthly world, to do harm is often admirable, and to do good sometimes a dangerous folly. Those children would be in constant danger of bigger enemies; their lives would most definitely be short… But she would keep those thoughts to herself; it was a very cruel thing to scoff at someone's goals, but it was unforgivable to desecrate and sully them.

At her door, when that sick voice, tried to get to her again, he had spoken in that fake robotic voice. That tone had truly made her sick with anger, without the voice having to do anything. She had wanted to scream, to yell until her lungs collapsed, but she settled on speaking in a bemused tone. The anger that came off of him when she had accused him was surprising at the least. But it made her feel strangely warm; the sick part of her mind was silenced.

She let a smile creep onto her face as she teasingly threatened him, not meaning a word of it. Her rare, yet not so rare, laugh erupted from her lips as he had paled. She did not know why, but the way Ranol acted… It was different from everyone else… So much more different than her brothers… But… She didn't think she would trade it for anything in the world. The warm feeling he gave her was something she never wanted to go without again.

She had bidden him good night and her stomachs did flips when he uttered his soft goodnight, his whisper was so soothing. She had to shut the door quickly as her knees became weak. She slumped against the door as she heard his footsteps fade away.

_'What the hell was that?'_ She thought as she kept replaying the gentle whisper in her mind.

She regained her control over her legs and thought about how to figure out whatever the hell she was feeling. She slipped out of her clothes and put on only a simple night gown. She sighed and stretched before heading towards her bed, but then she sensed someone opening the door. She turned around and her sister stood there, still in her armor, the blood of the enemy still fresh upon the leather gauntlets and chest plate.

Medea tilted her head in slight respect, "Sister."

Cressida looked at her and frowned, "Sit."

Medea rolled her eyes but did what she was told.

Cressida violently suppressed a yell about to escape her throat before speaking with quiet anger, "Father has said that I must rest here, since it is closer to the guard tower. You never know when the enemy might rally again."

Medea raised an eyebrow, "Oh please milady, spare me the quiet anger. I know how you detest me."

The sarcastic tone in her voice made Cressida set her jaw, a vein threatening to pop in her forehead.

"Listen Medea, I know you are up to something, you have always hated this family, you won't fool me," Cressida growled, jabbing an accusing finger in her direction.

Medea's face twisted into one of pure anger, but before she could utter a word in defense or in rage, Cressida had cut her off.

"For all we know, you could have caused Cerdic's injuries!" Cressida yelled, her accusing voice like a sword, driving hard through Medea's heart.

Medea balled her hands into fists and launched herself at her sister, fists swinging randomly. Cressida caught the girl easily and sent her own fist sailing into Medea's jaw. Medea fell onto the floor cradling her jaw, rebellious tears of pain leaking out her eyes.

Cressida growled, "I knew it."

"No you didn't!" Medea screamed as she stood up, a black bruise beginning to form on her chin.

"I may have hated the family, but not any longer. And even if I hated you, I still would not hurt Cerdic! He is my brother; my sibling, he and Eodred were the ones who actually began to give a damn," Medea yelled at her elder sister.

"What about father? And Cerdic being a brother, oh yes of course! I doubt it! Being your brother never stopped you from hurting Charlemagne!" Cressida yelled on back.

Medea twitched and tightened her fists, her nails digging in so sharply into her palms that blood ran down the crevices of her hand, and onto the floor.

"You know nothing Cressida because you never cared about me. Father, he tried to care, but then again the pecking order of the family always makes itself apparent. Whenever any of you four needed him when I needed him as well, I was pushed aside. Forgotten. And Charlemagne, that is something I can only explain in my true words. He was hit with polio and survived. Always to be protected by mother and father, I was finally pushed completely aside," Medea's eyes shone once again with tears, but she furiously wiped them away.

"I almost forgot I had a mother. And my father? Almost nonexistent, except when telling me to try and get closer to the family, or to be kind to Sharley." Medea spat the last word like it was something vile.

Cressida blinked at Medea's words, but before she could get a word in Medea continued furiously, "Father stopped coming to see me at all, he was always with you four, whenever I would try to join you, it turned awkward and no one wanted anything to do with me. I know how you all were, especially you. But I decided the gods would give me my vengeance. But instead they had my brothers protect, and shelter me for the first time since Charlemagne was born. I felt so happy. And now I have a friend."

"You mean the poor sap that was stuck with you and that will be training you to fight?" Cressida asked in a precipitous tone, a smirk threatening to break out on her lips.

Medea twitched, "What are you getting at?"

"He was probably chosen by false lots, he is also one of the least skilled, a big fool that one," Cressida said smirking at her.

"Mother doesn't trust you to stay in your place witch, that is the only reason she would have granted you such an idiotic escort, a stupidly loyal one as well," Cressida finished up.

Medea felt the Gift bubbling darkly, that sick voice practically SCREAMING for her to put Cressida in her place, her good conscious agreeing easily for what she had said about Ranol. But she noticed something, almost by mistake. Cressida had been trying to sow a seed of destruction.

Her logic then rang out beyond all the voices,_ 'SHE IS TESTING YOU!'_

Medea ruthlessly suppressed her Gift and smirked, "And here I thought you were just a bitch."

Cressida snarled angrily, "What does that mean?"

"Mother wouldn't do anything like that without father's consent, and though he ignores me, he would not try and get me killed," Medea said triumphantly.

Cressida clenched and unclenched her fist repeatedly, apparently angry beyond belief at Medea's discovery of her test. Then a hand sailed in across her cheek as a harsh pain stung on her cheek. She looked at Medea in astonishment.

"I also ask that you refrain from speaking ill of my consort…" Medea spoke but then she noticed her error in word choice.

Cressida's jaw dropped and Medea began to sputter, "N-No! I-I m-m-meant e-escort!!"

Cressida just blinked, "I see."

Soon after Cressida narrowed her eyes, "If you hit me again, you will die. And I still do not trust you witch."

Medea just smirked in a feral manner, causing Cressida to reel back, Medea's face reminding her of a sly snow leopard that had just mauled and devoured a man.

"And I do not trust you, your highness." Medea said ominously.

She turned on her heel and laid down to bed. She curled up as she had always done and drifted off, her last sight a small painting of a forbidden love. A royal and a simple fighter, a woman of high society and a street rat, Medea went to sleep smiling happily; for what reason? Well, it was beyond her.

Cressida glared at her cautiously and slipped out of her armor, revealing her own simple clothes. She went to the other side of the bed and laid down, staring at the ceiling she counted sheep until she fell asleep.

In the morning Medea lifted her head and sighed, getting up and grabbing some regular riding garb to go around the castle with. She was about to strip herself down when loud yawning drew her attention. Cressida was sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

"Morning," Medea called out as Cressida looked around.

Her eyes narrowed and she just nodded to return the greeting. Medea rolled her eyes and walked behind her screen to change. When she was done her sister announced she was going to go clean her armor and left. Medea grabbed a cape to serve as an insulator for the freezing weather she just knew was outside. She looked in the small mirror she had in her room and frowned at the black and blue bruise on her chin. She ran her fingers lightly over it, wincing slightly.

She walked out and toward the medic's office, sneaking in and getting some cover for bruises, after a few dabs of the cover her bruise was invisible. She felt up for a walk around the gates so she walked out of the palace and into a typical scene.

Two guards hailing someone who approached, she extended her sight and saw that it was Ranol, and he looked fine… Then she had heard it crisp and clear, the two guards cracking jokes at Ranol for having to be her escort. She expected him to be mad…That was a given when people insult you. But she was beyond surprised at what he was mad about.

He was angry at their comments toward her… He was defending her… It made her heart warm and she felt elated, but then he got in trouble for defending her. They were about to hurt him, so she called out, threatening the damn fools so she could return the favor, defending him though it was under an annoyed guise. That sick little voice was asking, prying, for why the hell I even cared. Then his joking voice returned, that light airy tone that fought against her self-control, trying to make her smile.

She was about to yell back at him for such and idiotic joke but, then she had caught sight of how cold he really was, his lips were a light blue, definitely signaling he was cold. She scowled at his lack of concern for his own well-being and grabbed his arm roughly, pulling him away from the epsilons (1) at the front gate and dragging him into the warm castle. She smiled to herself when she felt his skin heat up a bit.

She drowned her smile, and turned around, scrutinizing his armor. She lifted the arm that had a tear in the leather armor and shook her head quietly, and when he got defensive she didn't even acknowledge it.

_'I have to know how many hands long his torso is…'_ Medea thought to herself until the idea hit her.

She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him; she rolled up her sleeves so they would be about the same length as his torso. She felt her face light up a bit as he raised his arms to return the embrace and her heart began to pound. A small part of her mind screamed at her stay there, while another told her to hurry, and get away. She quickly finished measuring and slipped out of his grip, spreading her arms apart to try and guess how long it was.

Then it was off to Vestitus, in all honesty, the man scared her. Always so friendly... Too friendly. It creeped her out beyond all reason, she smiled and flushed politely but she was beyond relieved when Ranol stepped in-between her and that crazy tailor.

His voice when he introduced himself was encouraging though, but when Vestitus tried to get a rise out of him she had to step in, even though she was quite a bit nervous. Though with Ranol's presence she grew braver and braver, and when Vestitus tried to get out of fixing Ranol's armor, she quickly interjected with her estimates.

After he shooed them out she almost sighed in relief before she heard Ranol's voice, anger evident in frustration at the man's behavior. She had to reassure him before he did something unwise so she vouched for Vestitus. The last thing she wanted was for him to get in trouble for starting a fight with someone higher than himself.

When he had calmed down, she let out a breath she hadn't known she had been holding. Then there was a semi-awkward silence, in truth she had no idea for the life of her on what to say. She had just thought to say 'Would you like to go riding?' when a loud growling noise escaped into the air. At first she was about to yell 'What in the bloody hell was that?!' but, she learned what it was in a matter of seconds.

Ranol was standing there, fidgeting in mortification, his face an image of red. She couldn't help it, maybe it was a bit of influence from her brothers, but she had to tease him about it. And when she did she got a grand result, seeing him so mortified and apologizing was worth more than the total amount of gold and silver in the treasury.

She reassured him and then dragged him along to the kitchen. It was another place where she had a few people she knew. But as she dragged him along she noticed that he was becoming more and more tense.

Out of the corner of her eyes she saw him blushing deep crimson, but he was also glaring sourly at some of the servants that passed. She began to notice the looks that some were giving them. She could honestly care less, but she found herself smiling at the reactions. It was oddly satisfying that they didn't bother her, yet it felt nice that Ranol was becoming annoyed for this when it had nothing to really do with him, it wasn't his fault.

She began to speed up as his face became red with fury instead of embarrassment, she wanted no altercations today. She almost sighed in happy relief as they arrived in the kitchen. The aroma from the prepared food was enough to make her want to salivate. The loud growl from behind her elicited a soft giggle from her lips before looking around the kitchen.

The head chef, Geoda, smiled at her, and gestured toward a platter covered in food that was ready to be eaten. Geoda never seemed to be mean, but then again he never went out of his way to help her anyway. He was an ok person.

Medea walked over and paled at the weight of the platter before asking Ranol to help. They both carried the platter into the great hall and sat down to eat a smaller table, in all honesty this was her table that she always sat at alone, well until a few days ago. It felt nice to share a meal with someone that was outside her family, or maybe it was just that it was Ranol she was sitting with? She flushed a bit and hoped that Ranol hadn't noticed, and when she looked up she could hear soft hums of appreciation, he was eating slowly, apparently savoring the food. He then locked eyes with the younger woman, and flushed as he noticed the sounds his mouth was making of its own accord. Medea was more then amused, in fact she thought what he had been doing was adorable.

She felt her mouth expand into a lopsided smile as he turned away slightly, and she let words ease out of her mouth, "That was cute."

It was even more amusing when Ranol flushed a deeper red, his cheeks aflame as he thanked her and finished his food. Medea finished a minute later and they both stood up. She smiled as his hand encircled hers and pulled her gently along. They had time to kill as they walked to Vestitus but Medea had expected silence, but then Ranol began to speak.

He wove a tale so vivid there were only three possible ways he would be able to know how in depth this story was.

He could of told the story scores of times… But the way he was hesitant and slow in his speech ruled that out.

He could of known the person who this happened to, but the pain in his eyes told otherwise. It told Medea that he knew this story so well because of the final possible reason.

He was boy in the story, witnessing all that went around him it was the only explanation. As he delved deeper he encircled her with his emotive voice. All the bitter emotions running around her as he spoke... She felt her heart twinge. She had wanted to reach out to the elder boy and tell him it would be alright… Instead her sight came to the hand she was holding and squeezed as he finished his story. She smiled shyly as he looked back and her smile only grew when she saw that his eyes held no pain in them any more.

When he asked what she needed she was going to say _'nothing'_ as they reached Vestitus' room, but her traitor of a mouth let it slip that she knew it was his story and that she wished for him to become happier. She could only open the door and drag the stunned boy in and walked to the center of the room. Ranol had to snap out of it as Vestitus, the bastard, threw him half finished armor and curtly asked him to try it on.

Ranol just growled and stalked behind the screen. She didn't like that now she didn't have Ranol next to her as Vestitus watched me like a predator watching prey. It was something that scared me to the core, and it looked like he was about to come over to Medea when Ranol, thank the gods for his timing, stepped out from the screen placing the armor on the tailor's work bench. He congratulated his work and the Vestitus, put into a sour mood again shooed them out, telling them the armor would be done by the morrow.

As they were being pushed out, Medea felt like thanking the elder boy for coming when he did, without actually telling him that was why she was thanking him. Ranol though looked incredibly angry as he was shoved out of the room; he reached for his throwing dagger when Medea made up her mind to hug her escort and just wave it off. She hugged him suddenly, but never expected him to lose his balance. He was almost a housecarl for the gods' sakes! Then Medea felt the arm encircle her waist pulling her closer as they fell. And then there they were lying on the ground, Ranol's lean, strong arm wrapped around Medea's thin waist as if he were some sort of brazen consort or suitor! Though Medea didn't really want to, she sat up and his arm slid off her waist with little effort.

She almost cursed as she quickly clambered off of him and checked the back of his head, a huge knot on the poor young man's head. She felt guilty and sick at the same time as she dragged him away and now here she was, sitting at Ranol's bedside in the private infirmary.

"You stupid idiotic unbalanced fool," She muttered as she lifted one hand hesitantly and stroked his cheeks softly.

_'Why do I care so greatly about you?'_ She whispered in her mind

And Ranol lied there, his eyes screwed shut as he reveled in the softness of the younger girl's hand. He knew if he opened his eyes it would stop, and he didn't want it to.

**_'But it always has to,'_** Said the melancholy voice of his reason.

Ranol blinked his eyes open and tried not to look disappointed as Medea withdrew her hand. But instead he felt her small hand rest on his chest and saw Medea lean down ever so hesitantly, a small unsure smile on her face as she pressed her lips awkwardly to his, neither of them having kissed before. It was a chaste kiss, only lasting a few seconds before she sat back up, her face bright red.

She stood up abruptly, told him that he could rest there for the night and left. Leaving a confused and flushing housecarl-in-training in her wake.

--

Hope you liked it, especially the end, please remember to review, I love your feedback.


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